ain," she said, "it makes a pleasing sound."

I did not say it again. I felt my responsibilities towards this
beautiful but wholly barbarous creature. It seemed to me my duty at the
very first to purge her mind of her superstitions about that deformed,
intelligent, and learned section of humanity in whose divine character
she had been taught to believe.

"If your masters are indeed gods, as you say, why did they not destroy
the creature from the sea?"

"Two of them went out to kill it, but they saw its eyes and horror
overcame them so that they died. After that they saw that this was a
very evil creature, and in their wisdom they left it alone."

"They must be poor creatures to be so easily frightened to death. In my
country we could not believe in gods that ever die. Yet the very first
of your masters that I saw when I reached this island has since died and
his body has been burned."

"His body--yes. But he himself still lives. I was taught these things by
the gods when I was a child, and it is wrong of you to try and make me
think otherwise."

I began to realise the tremendous strength of early impression. I could
call to mind that I had seen evidence enough of it before ever I came to
Thule. It seemed almost impossible for me--one man--to fight against
this crafty and complex organisation of tyranny and slavery that was
here blindly accepted. I turned to another of her terrors--her terror of
the sea.

"Do you swim well?" I asked her.

She laughed. "One swims as one walks or runs. Why not? You ask such
strange things."

"Very well then," I said, "you shall swim in the sea."

"No. The sea is the evil water. If one had only that water to drink, one
would die. Is that not so?"

"It is, but----"

"Very well then. We are rightly taught not to touch the sea. You speak
to me sometimes very much as if you were a god, and you boast of
freedom, and you have come all the way from a far-off country; but you
yourself would not dare to enter the sea."

It was my turn to laugh. "I am going to swim in it this evening," I
said.

"I implore you not to do it," said Dream.

"I shall come to no harm."

"You will most certainly die."

"You will see that I shall not."

"It would be a pity, because I myself perhaps may escape death yet for a
few days longer, and I might begin to love you."

We had now reached the entrance to the caves.

CHAPTER IX

The side of the brown sandstone cliff was perforated like